


All work and no play.

by KeiiChan



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6647728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiiChan/pseuds/KeiiChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Washington works a supposedly 9-5 job, his boss is firm but fair and he has a wide array of friends, but when a young brown eyed man walks literally into his life, what is Wash to do? Especially when he gets burned big time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All work and no play.

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is written for a friend. I hope she enjoys it~

Wash waited in the elevator, his back pressed against the cool metal, his tired eyes closed. He hadn't slept in a few days. A deadline for due for today and by some miracle, he had finished the presentation at 4am. Wash wasn't a slacker but somehow still, the work seemed the continuously pile up any time he took a small break. He opened his eyes as the sound of the elevator coming to his spot. The doors slides open and just before he stepped out of the metal container, he saw a glance of himself in the metals shiny reflection. He could distinctly see the dark purple bags that hung under his eyes.

Groaning, he quickly hopped out of the elevator before it took him on a new trip and ruffled his blonde hair. The office was the same as usual, a large white walled room with an itchy grey carpet. The circular reception desk stood to the side and a few people crowded around, waiting to be let through to the main office or something along those lines. In each corner of the room sat a different potted plant - fake or real? Who knew. A row of blue, sunken soft chairs leaned against on wall and a muted T.V with subtitles hung on the opposite wall. Sluggishly, Wash shuffled over to the end of the line and stood there, waiting. 

In his first few moments of waiting, he didn't move for a while, his eyes glancing towards the T.V now and then but as time ticked on, he began to fidget and slouch in his place. His eyes shifted from the T.V to the next room that was split off by a glass wall. His eyes searched the room, seeing cubicle after cubicle, people sitting at their desks looking miserable. He was about to look over at the small selection of tables that weren't surrounded by fake walls when he attention was needed.

"David, you okay there?" Reggie tapped him on the shoulder. Reggie was a brown haired and moustached fellow and only a little taller than Wash. Reggie also had a heavy English accent even though he had been living in America for the past 11 years.

"Don't call me Wash, y'know I hate that," Wash replied and rubbed one eye, "and yeah, I'm okay thanks, just tired," 

"Want a coffee?" Reggie offered, a glint of concern in his blue eyes. Wash shook his head, remembering the cup he had finished just before he got in the elevator. Reggie nodded sympathetically and looked away for a second. "Looks like your next anyway," The Englishman slapped Wash the back, laughed and walked away. Wash's eyes rolled and a sigh left his lips. He liked his co-workers but they were all too much sometimes.

Reggie was right, Wash was next and he didn't have to wait much longer. Once the person in-front was gone, he stepped forward and slipped the woman at the desk. The woman was young, brunette and small. Red lipstick stained her smile and smoky eye shadow framed her eyes perfectly. She seemed too happy and well put together for this time of the morning. The brunette scanned his card and passed it back, her smile never leaving her mouth. “You’re free to go in now Sir,” Wash nodded a thank you and walked away. 

His legs automatically took him where he needed to go, no thoughts were needed. The daily grind had taken its place, engraving not only his mind but his body too. Soon, even the lack of sleep will be Wash’s natural state of being, he kinda hoped that it would be sooner than later. When Wash arrived at his destination, his mind didn't register for a few moments until his boss came face to face with him. 

“Washington, you have everything ready?” Wash’s boss was a fiery red-head with piercing green eyes. She always had her hair tied up in a high pony tail and her smudgy black eye-make up made her look somewhat sinister and mysterious. She was about a head smaller than Wash but she had a sturdy and strong build. 

“I’m ready,” the blond replied, breathing in heavily through his nose and attempting to relax his shoulders. 

“The director is not in a good mood... as usual,” Lina rolled her eyes, an irritated tone underlying her words. “C’mon, let’s meet up with the others.” Lina turned on her heel and walking towards a sturdy blue door. She opened it and slipped inside, leaving Wash trailing behind. 

Just before he was about to follow his boss, someone rammed into him. Wash crashed his side into the wall, his messenger bag falling from his shoulder and landing onto his foot. Everything seemed to be going in a blur while Wash tried to get his bearings back. “What the fuck?” words spilled from his mouth as he stood up. He whipped around sharply to face his “attacker.” He was face to face with another man with smooth dark skin and a shaven head. He was a little smaller than Wash himself but not noticeably so. He wore a grey suit that seemed a little to big for the young man but the teal tie he wore around his neck seemed to draw Wash’s attention. Wash’s eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for an apology. However, instead of an apology, the other shrugged his shoulders and carried on running down the rest of the corridors length and disappearing around a corner. “Those were the worst manners, of all time.” Wash huffed, scowling. 

Once Wash was finally able to walk into the next room, we was met by a familiar group of people who were mingled with a few faces he didn't recognize at all. Some people glanced at him when he walked in but most dismissed him. His gaze searched the room, looking for a pair of friends that would sooth him nerves. Instead of finding his friends, the blonde ended up finding the coffee machine. “Eh... Close enough,” He murmured under his breath and made his way across the room and to the machine. 

Warm liquid poured into the paper cup, slowly but surely, the smell of boiling coffee beans filling the atmosphere. Once he picked up the cup and took a painful swig, burning both his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He flinched back in pain, nearly spilling the rest of his beverage on himself. Hissing under his breath he looked up and saw that everyone was slowly moving into the meeting room. Wash’s stomach dropped and his heart began picking up pace. 

Calm down Washington. 

It was like the world was against David Washington today. As soon as he shuffled towards the conference room door, once again he was winded by a blurry moving object. Wash was knocked backwards, his coffee spilling all over him and the floor, and hopefully what ever knocked into him. “Fuck!” He shouted in pain, falling with a thumb on the floor, his skin burning. He looked up, an enraged expression plastered on his face. “You!” He yelled again. It was the same guy from before. Wash jumped to his feet and grabbed the other by the collar. “Look where you’re going you dick,” he said through gritted teeth. Their faces were awkwardly close but Wash was to pissed off to care. Wide eyed and a little scared, the dark skinned man put up his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry man, here, I’ll clean you up,” He wriggled from Wash’s tight grip. With a scowl still in the place, the stranger took his hand and pulled him to the toilets. “I’ll get a towel,” 

“No. Its okay, just get me some paper towels,” Wash replied sharply. His skin was still burning through his wet shirt. He looked down and sighed. Washington quickly un-buttoned his shirt and threw it next to the sink and looked himself over in the mirror. His fair, freckled skin looked a little scorched now, pale pink splotches decorating his skin. 

“Damn, your pretty good looking,” A voice suddenly spoke up. Wash forgot he wasn't alone. He rolled his eyes and looked towards the guy who was giving him a nod of approval. 

“I know, I don’t need you tell me,” Wash snatched the paper towels from his hand and began dabbing his wet shirt. 

“I’m Tucker btw,”

“Hi Tucker,” a slight hint of malice in his words. Why wouldn't Tucker just leave? He’s caused enough trouble already. 

“Here let me help,” Tucker tried to push his way to the shirt, pressing against Wash’s arms. 

“H-Hey what are you doing?” Tucker had ducked under Wash’s arms and popped up in-between them, his back pressing up closely to the blonde’s chest. Wash’s eye contact looked up at the mirror and witnessed the awkward position that they were in. Looked inappropriate from his point of view at least. “Please leave me alone,” 

“Fuck me,” Tucker suddenly hissed. 

“W-what?” a new voice entered the room. Wash wanted to die right there and then. Hoping a car would some how crash through the roof and crush him there and then. He turned his head and saw York. Great. Wash’s eyes widened in the “Don’t you dare say a thing,” kind of way as York’s eye brows raised. “Whatever man... but you have a meeting to go to, shall I tell them you’ll be back in 10?” York snickered. 

“No, I’ll come now,”

“Bow chicka bow wow,” Tucker whispered, just about loud enough that Wash could hear. Wash’s eyes brows knitted together as a look of confusion appeared on his face. 

“Whatever,” he sighed. He grabbed his damp shirt, pulled it back on and left the bathroom with York, hopefully leaving Tucker forever.


End file.
